Photograph
by Mizz Berlitz
Summary: Lillian Truscott is single, twenty nine, has four kids, and absolutely no direction in life. But that all changes when she finds an old photograph of her, Miley, and Oliver... [Contains Loliver, Lackson, and Moliver] [On HIATUS]
1. Broken

Photograph

**A/N : CHRISTMAS (AU) FICCY! MERRY CHRISTMAS! This story will contain at least three pairings. I'll try to include a little bit of everything, but the three main ones I'll most likely focus on are Lackson, Loliver, and Moliver. Being the huge anti-Jake person I am, I probably won't include him much to spite him. D But he will have a part in the story, even if only in a flashback. **

Chapter 1

Broken

Barns & Noble always smelled like coffee in the morning, mainly because most of the staff preferred to resided in the café area until customers began to come in. Ginger-haired Lillian Truscott was seated at her favorite table, across from a middle-aged woman named Katherine.

Lillian absentmindedly took a sip of her drink, and eyeing Katherine across the table she began to make small talk. The woman's silence was a bit unnerving, as she had quickly earned herself the nickname 'chatterbox' shortly after she began working in the audio/video section with her.

"It's nice out today, huh?" Lillian remarked, deciding to go with the typical weather remark. But it _was_ exceptionally beautiful outdoors, the air was crisp and cold and the skies were abnormally clear, which was rather refreshing after weeks of dreary gray clouds.

Katherine nodded to show that she had barely acknowledged her remark, staring into space. Lillian tilted her head, causing some light auburn hair to splash across her cheek.

"OK, Kathy," she began, calling Katherine by her nickname, "what's up?" Katherine fixated her dark eyes on her.

"Nothing." She said calmly, taking a small bite of the remains of a blueberry muffin. Lillian stared back at her with a skeptical look.

"I'm fine." Katherine insisted, finishing her muffin and standing to toss the paper plate into a nearby trashcan before brushing invisible crumbs off of her dark blue pantsuit. Lillian also rose to her feet, dropping her coffee cup into the trash. She then began to count off of her manicured fingers.

"One, you seem totally spaced out - you're not talking when you normally won't shut up, two, you've only had _one_ muffin today, and three, you're wearing a pantsuit and high heels of all things when you usually wear peasant skirts with Crocs." Katherine looked at her strangely.

"Goodness, Lillian, I never noticed you were so…observant." She replied, bewildered. A faint tinkling was heard and Lillian saw an elderly man enter the store out of the corner of her eye, causing the bells attached to one of the door handles to jangle slightly. He began to make his way over to the classics section, filled with thick novels and inviting, overstuffed chairs.

"I'm not." Lillian continued plainly. "Just today. But really, everyone notices the change -" she paused to look around at her fellow coworkers, still lazing around and talking to each other casually, "-they just haven't said anything." She finished.

Katherine sighed, defeated, and motioned for her to lean in closer. She obliged eagerly, her blue eyes sparkling at the prospect of learning what was behind Katherine's strange behavior. At twenty-nine she was still as gossipy had she been in middle school.

"The truth is," Katherine murmured in Lillian's ear, "I have a job interview today after work."

"What?!?" Lillian exploded, drawing back quickly to stare at her older friend. "I thought you liked working here!"

Her outburst earned her the attention of employees and customers alike, and everyone on the first floor turned to look at her with annoyed expressions. She bit her lip before speaking once more in a much quieter voice. "Kathy, you can't leave -" but the older woman cut her off.

"And why not? I'm -" she caught herself, "- middle-aged, and I am bored to tears. I live with a Yorkshire terrier named Maggie in a trailer home, and this job opportunity is the best thing that ever happened to me."

Lillian opened her mouth to speak. "Where exactly will you be working?"

"_If_ I get the job," Katherine corrected, "I'll be working as a 8th grade English teacher at Seaview Middle School." Figured. Katherine had come to the bookstore in the first place because she was drawn to eloquence, or so she claimed.

"Well that's great." Lillian retorted sarcastically. "I'll work in the audio/video section all by my lonesome - except for Yolanda - with only Jaime to talk to during breaks."

Simultaneously both woman turned their heads to catch a glimpse of Jaime, a twenty-five-year-old with tacky jewelry and hair that changed color every month. It was currently a flashy purple hue.

"Lillian, you are perfectly capable of making friends." Katherine scolded. "Besides, I probably won't get the job."

"Shut _up_!" Lillian said. "Of course you'll get the job, Kathy. You love kids and the English language is your passion."

Katherine smiled in reply.

"Thanks, Lillian."

"Don't thank me." She groaned. "I probably just fully convinced you to go after that job with your all… Hey," She paused as a thought struck her. "What are you going to say? That you're between jobs?"

"If I get the job I'll quit tomorrow." Katherine assured her.

"It was nice knowing you." Lillian said grouchily. Katherine simply smiled wider, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

Lillian glanced at a nearby clock on a wall, gasping audibly.

"Oh jeez, we talked for too long." She said.

"Yolanda's going to kill us." Katherine quipped, referring to the mild-mannered Asian girl that worked at the audio/video section and rarely spoke.

"Well the chances are higher seeing as how long we dwindled." Lillian retorted, and the two woman made their way over to the audio/video section, positioning themselves behind a counter.

Yolanda didn't remark at their lateness, she was busy with a customer. As her shift dragged by, all Lillian could think off was how boring work would be without Katherine. Truscotts were very social creatures, and Lillian was no exception.

HMHMHM

"Kids, I'm home!" Lillian's voice echoed through the spacious two-story house, and almost immediately three children came clambering down the staircase.

"Mom! Mom!" Nine-year-old Jacob shouted, running up to his mother excitedly. "I beat my high score on-"

"I got a C+ plus on my math test -" Twelve-year-old Rachel interrupted, pushing a glossy strand of dark brown hair under her backwards baseball hat.

"Mommy! I colored inside the lines!" Five-year-old Brooke squealed. Fifteen-year-old Chelsea was nowhere in sight.

Scooping Brooke up in her arms and twirling her around playfully Lillian smiled.

"Mrs. Johnson called me and explained to me why she dropped you off early." She said after placing Brooke down on the ground, planting her hands squarely on her hips and cocking an eyebrow. "How come no one told me there was a Christmas show today Alexandra was dancing in? I would have let you go, Rachel." Rachel pulled a face.

"I wouldn't have exactly looked forward to it, mom. Tutus aren't my thing."

"But wouldn't it be fun to see a friend?" Lillian coaxed, but Rachel just shook her head in reply.

Deciding the ballet was a lost cause, Lillian turned to Jacob.

"Jacob, where's Chelsea?"

"Upstairs." He replied.

"She's mad about some guy." Rachel rolled her eyes. "I don't get her. Boys are idiots." Jacob glared at her.

"Mom, I got a smiley-face sticker on my math homework today." Brooke said happily, her blue-like-Lillian's eyes glinting mischievously.

"I am so proud of you!" Lillian smiled. But her expression quickly changed when she heard the shatter of glass coming from upstairs.

**A/N : That chapter was boring, just to let you get a feel for the characters. Lilly dyed her hair red! And goes by Lillian! And is OOC! Well yeah, it is AU after all. The action starts around chapter 3 so stay tuned! And sorry about the shortness of this chapter, I was in a huge rush. It gets much better, I promise. And if it doesn't I'll write a Jiley fic -- and believe me, THAT would be extreme. **


	2. Blood

Photograph

**A/N : Here's chapter 2! Thanks for the reviews, they motivated me to update so much faster: ) And I have decided that instead of having a few long chapters, I will have many short chapters. So here's your first intended shorty! And BTW, if you like short chapters, (and Moliver) check out Almost Home by Suduko's Worst Victim. It's quite interesting… This chapter is Chelsea-centric, since you didn't get any of her in the first chapter. **

Chapter 2

Blood

Rushing upstairs as fast as she could, Lillian quickly headed in the direction of Chelsea's room, which seemed to be the source of the crash. Jacob, Rachel, and little Brooke were tagging along at her heels. When Lillian reached the room, the door was locked.

"Chelsea!" Lillian called, knocking on the door. "What happened?" Silence.

After a few moments she knocked again. "Chelsea?" Still no reply. She was about to knock one more time when the door flew open and Chelsea stood there, clutching a towel around her and dripping wet, her right arm stained with blood. Lillian gaped at the sight and Chelsea lamely attempted to hide her arm behind her back.

"What was going on?" Chelsea's blue eyes were downcast.

"Well?" Lillian demanded after the red-headed teenager grew silent. Chelsea mumbled something and she strained her ears to hear. "What was that?" Chelsea said nothing more.

"Chelsea…" Lillian began, her tone threatening. Chelsea sucked in a breath.

"I was getting my hairbrush off of the top of the dresser, then my hand bumped into the glass vase and knocked it over on the floor, then I tripped over my algebra book and the glass cut me."

Lillian wasn't buying it. It seemed very likely that Chelsea had made up the story as a last-minute attempt. She searched her daughters' eyes in hope of detecting a hint that Chelsea was lying. But her blue eyes looked steely, she had become a pro at making things up.

"After you got out of the shower, of course." Lillian said coolly. Chelsea looked like she was about to say "Duh" but caught herself.

"Yeah."

Lillian peered around her daughter to see a messy room. A very messy room. Various articles of clothing littered the ground, as well as other objects such as school books, I-pod headphones, and a two-year-old German Shepard named Trouble who was sprawled out on his side asleep, blissfully unaware of the commotion occurring around him.

Lillian sighed for the second time that day.

"I'll let you off with peroxide and band-aids if you _clean this room_. Now." Chelsea nodded, but looked angry about it. Shutting the door Lillian rubbed her temples exasperatedly, and was about to walk downstairs to get the peroxide and bandages when she almost tripped over Brooke.

"Oh, you guys, you know you shouldn't eavesdrop." She scolded, and all three children looked at their feet.

Without another word Lillian continued downstairs, retrieved the items and set them down in front of Chelsea's door, then announcing to her daughter the delivery. On the other side of the door Chelsea was dressed and sitting on her bed, staring out a window blankly. She hadn't meant to cut herself…she had been brushing her hair then slipped on the wet tile of the bathroom floor, cutting herself on the sharp corner of the counter and knocking over an old soap dish she had made in second-grade pottery class and never managed to throw away in the process.

Chelsea felt her eyes brim with tears and wiped them away hurriedly. She had made another stupid mistake, proved she was a complete klutz again. She had made a fool out of herself, and felt embarrassed even though no one had been watching.

Being valued was important to Chelsea. Ever since…her _father_ had walked out on the family, life had taken a major nosedive. It was bad enough as it is being adopted… Chelsea subconsciously clenched her hands into fists at the thought of the man she hated so much.

She didn't always hate him.

She just hated him for leaving. His absence always reminded her that he was just one more person that didn't care about her. Her biological parents had abandoned her at birth, but Chelsea was told that even before that her mother had walked out on the tiny family leaving her and her father, who, apparently, couldn't handle taking care of her without a female influence. At least, that's what Lillian said. She had always suspected that he just didn't want her, just like her adopted father who didn't want her now. She looked down at her cut. Blood was still trickling from it, but there was no pain. She shut her eyes.

She had never thought of cutting herself before… But now she desperately wanted to cut herself again. Walking over to her desk, she pulled open a drawer and took out a picture of her father, studying him. He had dark blonde hair and almost a goofy smile.

Walking back over to the window, she ripped the picture in half and threw it out, watching the wind carry the halves far away. And with that, the last object relating to her father was gone.

Quickly getting the bandages and peroxide from outside her door, she cleansed the wound and covered it. But when she was done, she walked back into the bathroom, took out a razor, and dragged it down her wrist, unable to stop herself.

She told herself it wasn't her fault; it was her father's. Both of them.


	3. Boxes

Photograph

**A/N : This is the chapter where Lilly finds the photograph! How exciting! Lol. And for all you crits, I altered the content of chapter two a bit, but if you don't feel like reading it, it basically states that Chelsea is adopted, her biological mother left and then her father gave her up and such. **

**I'LL UPDATE IF I GET 5 REVIEWS, 'KAY? And sorry, this chapter wasn't even 1000 words! I was in a rush. : ( **

Chapter 3

Boxes

All was quiet in the Truscott home. Brooke, Jacob, and Rachel were at a nearby park with Mrs. Johnson and her daughter Alexandra, and Chelsea was at school due to a project supposedly running late. Katherine hadn't been at work that day; nor had Lillian heard from her. But fortunately for her, this left her with a lot of free time while the kids where out… But with nothing to do. Unfortunately, boredom and a nagging feeling kicked in reminding her that there was a cluttered attic upstairs that desperately needed cleaning.

When she reached the attic floor she plopped down, sighing audibly as she stared at the huge number of labeled boxes and various other objects scattered across the floor. To call it 'messy' would be the understatement of the century, she decided, as she kicked away a one-eyed stuffed bear. Figuring that the sooner she began the sooner she would be finished, she picked up the stuffed bear and set it down to her left, mentally naming the spot the 'throw-away pile'.

Five minutes later the throw-away pile included a porcelain doll with very light blonde hair and a cracked face, a large, detailed painting of a clown that was in perfect condition but a little too creepy for her taste, a music box missing the piece used for winding it up and the small dancer mounted in front of the mirror, a carved wooden elephant with the trunk broken off and missing and the gray paint chipped, and a small model horse with all its faux fur torn off, as well as various other objects.

Lillian had absolutely no idea where she had gotten some of this stuff, or _why_ she had gotten them in the first place, but as far as she was concerned they were now a waste of space and belonged in the trash, or to very very desperate needy children. She was debating whether to give the clown painting to a thrift store when something caught her eye - the flash of silver tinsel.

Walking over the box she peered inside, her face suddenly aglow as she saw in delight the many Christmas decorations packed safely and snugly away.

"I found them!" She declared aloud to no one in particular, happy that she wouldn't have to spend extra money on decorations. Chelsea wouldn't care, Brooke would be happy with anything, and Jacob and Rachel would be satisfied, the ornaments and tinsel were in good condition and fairly attractive.

Carrying the box into a corner she set it down, sneezing as a speck of dust settled near her nose. The sunlight was shining through the dust-covered windows and the attic was growing continuously warmer and stuffier, causing it to grow continuously more uncomfortable. Glancing at her watch she bit her lip; the kids would be home in about thirty minutes. Looking back over the attic she groaned as she saw she had gotten extremely little work done. The attic was far from tidy and she would have to start preparing dinner soon.

After a few moments she heard the front door slam and Chelsea's voice faintly drift up to the attic, alerting her of her arrival. She heard footsteps go past as Chelsea headed towards her room, where she would usually stay until dinner, then returning to her room for the rest of the night. It worried Lillian that her adopted daughter was holed up in her room all afternoon and evening, but Chelsea refused to speak more than a few sentences to her at a time. She brushed aside a strand of red hair in her face wistfully as she remembered when Chelsea had been adopted, at age thirteen. The first year she had been fairly cheerful, but she was always gloomy, her natural disposition. She had few characteristics that resembled the Truscotts (as they were known after Lillian became single) such as their trademark blue eyes, but hers were icier and her hair a fiery red as opposed to Brooke's blond curls and Rachel and Jacob's dark tresses.

Then _he_ had left. Thinking of his name made her bitter, that man that had lied to her, used her, made her feel vulnerable, worthless, and most of all foolish. Since then, Chelsea's attitude had just taken a sharp turn for the worse - and hers, too. She lost her temper much easier, and on rainy days she became so depressed she simply sat by the window and stared out at the bleak weather, remembering the stormy afternoon when he announced he wanted a _divorce_.

Divorce was one of her least-favorite seven-letter words, the other one being _Justine_, because both of them made her feel inferior. Shaking her head to clear it of troubling thoughts, she decided to go through one last box before the younger children came home. Selecting an ordinary box near to her, she opened the cardboard flaps and looked inside, thinking she would find nothing more interesting than the Christmas decorations.

Little did she know she was wrong, so very, very wrong.

For inside that box lay one single thing - an extravagantly framed photograph. And the photograph wasn't just any photograph, it was a picture of her and her friends Miley and Oliver from college - and it was the last picture EVER taken of Miley Stewart (a.k.a. Hannah Montana) before she vanished seemingly in to thin air after a Malibu concert.


	4. Bored

Photograph 

**A/N : OMG! I haven't updated in FOREVER! I am SO sorry! I was so busy with Christmas festivities and…OK, I don't really have a good excuse. But the rest of the updates will hopefully be much much faster. **

Chapter 4

Boring

The photograph could be represented as a stone or even a pebble. It was like a rock that had been dropped into the calm "pond" of Lillian's life -- it was small, but the effects were easy to see. They spread out and affected all aspects of the pond disturbing the stillness and peacefulness.

Lillian had a pretty serene and organized life, besides her four kids working at the bookstore was easy and with all the children's friends and extra activities such as Jacob's baseball team, Lillian often found she had many an afternoon to herself to read a romance novel (she was a sucker for those) or work on her tan at the beach.

It was simplistic, unexciting, and boring. Where had that blonde teenager gone, the one that was always running around with her pop-star-in-disguise friend as her alias Lola Luftnagle (or was it Loftnagle?) and she didn't have a routine. Whether it was at the beach, mall, skate park, or backstage at a concert, she was always busy.

The blonde teenager called "Lilly" had grown up. She had settled down and had kids, and now she lived with her little broken family.

She wasn't _unhappy_…she loved her children, but her lifestyle was dissatisfying.

_"Maybe I should sell the house and buy an RV."_ She thought amusedly. _"Home school the kids… travel around, never stay in one place… Chelsea would kill me_." She sighed. She had let go of that life, of her dream to be a professional skateboarder. She was twenty-nine, she couldn't leave her home and children behind to go dream-chasing.

Soon she would be thirty…what a negative thought.

She had lost her beloved board a long time ago. If she tried to skateboard again she'd fall flat on her face and look like a fool - and mortify her kids. No, she decided, she had left that all behind.

She sighed audibly as she looked at the photograph in her trembling hands. It surfaced so many memories - like the newspaper article. Malibu and probably the whole of North America had been stunned by Hannah's sudden disappearance.

The title of the article had been "Hannah Montana - Vanished!". A picture of the blonde singer had been on front pages everywhere.

Her identity, once shrouded in secrecy, had been revealed to the world. The police and various detectives needed the vital information to search for her. The kids at school bombarded Oliver - and especially _me_ - with questions. Where did she go? How come she told _you _she was Hannah Montana? What was it like backstage at a concert?

How did whoever kidnapped her (assuming she was kidnapped) get past that bodyguard? The short African-American one? Roxy was devastated. She had failed in her mission of keeping Miley safe. I think that she left to work at some mall, probably as a security guard. She thought she would start again from scratch, Lillian guessed.

She felt sorry for her.

A sharp bark echoed through the hallway and Lillian looked down to see Trouble race past and clamber down the stairs, wild with excitement.

The kids must be home.

Quickly stuffing the photograph into her pocket, Lillian went to the door to thank Mrs. Johnson for taking them, but as soon as she closed the door after her friend she walked into the kitchen to order pizza.

She had a lot of thinking to do, and time spent fixing dinner was time she could spend debating the issue. Pluse, she wasn't exactly the greatest cook. She almost wished she hadn't found the photo in the first place, for all the confusion it already caused.

Authorities had given up on the search a long time ago. Miley had been gone for fourteen whole years.

The odd thing was, her father had gone too. It was unlikely they had packed up and hightailed it without telling anyone.

Detectives claimed no family issues or deaths had occurred, not had any other reasons for leaving.

The leave with inexplicable, but everyone had forgotten about it now.

The photograph must have some sort of clue, some kind of lead.

Lillian was determined to find her friend, dead or alive.

**A/N : Chapter 5 almost done! **


	5. Break

Photograph 

**A/N : Sorry, this chapter's REALLY short. I just didn't want to add anything on after the last bit. **

Chapter 5

Break

The next day Lillian was back at the bookstore after a very…interesting morning. Chelsea had seemed more spiteful than usual, Jacob was in a bad mood because Rachel beat him at a video game, Rachel couldn't find her diary (who knew that she actually owned one?), and Brooke had cut her hair all by herself, which she proudly modeled in front of the bathroom. Katherine was nowhere in sight once she arrived at work, but Yolanda shockingly piped up and claimed she had gotten the job, to which Lillian responded to with a tight smile and a roll of her eyes once her co-workers' back was turned.

Hours spend puzzling over the photograph did her no good. It was just a plain picture of three friends hanging out, no special occasion, no special reason. But she couldn't shake the feeling that it hid a secret, some sort of… well, she couldn't quite explain it. But just looking at it made her feel uneasy.

Lillian breezed through the work day thoroughly bored, until it came time for lunch break. Normally she would have sat down in the café section and ordered something, but today she needed to clear her head and ponder things.

She quickly purchased a bagel and sat down on a bench outside, taking the picture out of her pocket. She had sealed it in a plastic bag that morning to avoid damaging it, and now she gazed upon it with the same lack of understanding as last afternoon.

She noticed the corner of someone's shoe at the bottom right of the picture. She frowned. Jackson had been there too, but since he was seventeen at the time his sister and father left he had lived with his grandma for a year until he was eighteen. Then…

Her cell phone rang suddenly, disturbing her thoughts. Digging around in her purse she retrieved it, and then looked at the caller ID to see Katherine's name. Quickly she answered.

"Kathy?" She said hopefully.

"I got the job!" Her friend squealed girlishly, barely able to contain her excitement. She, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.

"That's great." Lillian sighed. "On the plus side, Yolanda spoke two sentences to me today."

"At a time?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. Stop the press." Kathy joked, her laugh tinkling over the phone.

"So…I've heard rumors that Seaview Middle School's been remodeled over the summer."

"Yup, the place looks great. It has a special ed class now…"

"I'm thinking about sending Rachel there for seventh grade."

Katherine lapsed into a surprised silence.

"I thought you hated that place."

"I had a rough time there." Once again Katherine was quiet, becoming steadily uncomfortable.

"It's very odd, Lillian, that you friend and her father disappeared and her brother or the authorities seem to have no idea about what happened. Is it possible that she had to leave? Maybe she was endangered?"

"She could have told me!" Lillian blurted out without thinking.

"Maybe she was just trying to protect you. You could have been in trouble too, if something was wrong."

Lillian sighed.

"It is a definite possibility. But why would Jackson - her brother - stay behind? He could've been threatened as a family member, if someone was after Hannah." She argued.

"I don't know." Katherine sighed. Lillian heard muffled voices in the background. "Look, I've got to go. I'll talk to you later, OK? We can finish up this little debate after work."

"Fine." Lillian said in a tight voice before she bade her friend goodbye and hung up the phone. She was just about to put the picture away and out of sight and try to enjoy a worry-free lunch, but the phone rang again. Not bothering to check the caller ID, she picked it up and answered it.

"Hello?" She said in an inquiring tone.

Sometimes the most unexpected things happen when we least expect it, which is probably why there's a saying about it, "expect the unexpected." But if you expect the unexpected, the unexpected isn't really unexpected at all but is instead expected.

Lillian was never one to expect the unexpected. She didn't expect the unexpected when her friend disappeared, nor did she expect the unexpected when her husband walked out on her and her children. And she didn't expect the unexpected that chilly afternoon as she picked up her cell phone expecting an everyday chat with a friend, when she instead heard Oliver Oaken's questioning voice.


	6. Author's Note

**A/N : I'm sorry to announce that the update times of this story will be infrequent for reasons I'd rather not get into. You might see me post some other stories like one-shots or probably five chapters tops, but this one will be updated rarely...for now, anyway. Once again, I'm really, really sorry. : ( **


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